The Wizard of Odd Part 2

Harry walked for a long, long time. He didn't know for how long, exactly, as the sun never lowered, and never stopped shining merrily. Hedwig was circling high above him, but Harry never looked up for her. He stayed to the path, never straying off of it, and taking all the utterly pointless twists and turns.

He stared off into the distance. The Yellow Brick Road seemed to go on forever, endlessly stretching into the horizon.

How long is this going to take? I just want to go home!

What seemed to take an eternity later, Harry found himself at a fork in the road. The two roads were divided by a vast corn field, surrounded by a rickety wooden fence. Hedwig had landed and perched on the fence, ruffling her feathers absentmindedly.

Harry looked to the left; the road went on and on, with no sign of Hogwarts City in sight. It was the same when he looked right. He stood there for a second, trying to decide which way to go.

"What do you reckon, Hedwig? Which way?" he asked. Hedwig was too busy nibbling under her wings to answer.

A voice that seemed to come from the cornfield answered him instead.

"Well, you could go that way..."

Harry spun around, searching for the source of the voice. But he was entirely alone!

"...or you could go that way..."

Harry scanned the field, hoping to see maybe a face peeking from the corn. One of the Hufflepuffs, maybe. The only thing he saw was a battered, weatherworn scarecrow, whose tethered arms were pointed to both the paths.

Harry felt as if he were losing his mind. Scarecrows talking?

"D-did you say something?" he asked slowing, not really expecting a response.

The scarecrow stared dead into his face, and broke into a huge grin. "Of course I did. You asked which way to go, and I said--"

"You can talk?" Harry exclaimed. "Wha...how... who are you?" Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing. That scarecrow... he looked just like...

The scarecrow sniggered, and nodded into what was an unmistakable bow. "Lockhart is the name, scarecrowing is the game, at your service, Harry Potter."

"How did...? Lockhart? What are you doing--" But it was then Harry realized that Lockhart wouldn't recognize him, just as Hermione and Malfoy hadn't. He had to play along, for the time being. "Er... how... did you know... my name?"

"Oh, the crows told me you were coming," Lockhart said earnestly, "Very excited they were, to hear you killed the Dark Lord... see, I'm not a very good scarecrow. I try my best, but they just perch on me and peck the straw out of my head without so much as a 'by your leave'..."

Hedwig, who had flown up to perch on Lockhart's post and peck at the straw spilling out of his shoulder, lifted her head and hooted indignantly.

"See?! Oh, it's a real shame, it is... Say, where are you going, anyway? Hufflepuff Land is back that way!"

Harry climbed over the fence to get closer. Upon closer inspection, Lockhart wasn't wearing his usual robes of fine materials and pastel colors. Instead, he was tattered and patched in so many places he looked like a quilt. Straw peeked out of his clothes so he looked like an oversized pin cushion.

"I'm trying to get to Hogwarts City... I have to talk to Dumbledore so I can get back to Surrey...or London, I don't think I want to go back to Surrey..."

"Merlin's Straw-packed Fanny! You're going to see the Wizard?" Lockhart sighed, his eyes rolling skyward. "I wish I could see the Wizard, too. If I could, I'd ask him for a brain. Then I could outsmart those stupid birds...ouch!"

Hedwig snapped at Lockhart's face and hooted loudly, then soared down to the fence again, looking a little miffed.

Harry exclaimed, "But you don't need a brain, Profess...I mean, Lockhart... you're...uh...smart.... if you want, I guess..." Harry realized that he was lying through his teeth in mid-sentence, and struggled to sound sincere.

"Nope!" Lockhart cried mournfully. "My head's packed full of straw, nothing more..."

That's for sure, Harry thought, trying to bite down a snigger.

Then, Lockhart's eyes lit up, and he looked down at Harry hopefully. "Say, you think I could come with you? I won't be much trouble, honest! Can I come to see the Wizard?"

Harry stalled for a moment. He would have been thankful at the prospect of company, but he wasn't expecting Lockhart... "Er...sure, I suppose. But you have to get down from there... lemme see..."

Harry, who was expecting Lockhart to be heavy, was surprised to find that he was as a light as, and really stuffed full of, straw. Harry lifted Lockhart down to the ground, where he immediately toppled down to the road on his rickety straw legs.

He sat up, and looked at his legs, biting his lip in thought. "Damn, I had an elaborate scheme to break into a clumsy dance and have a musical number about how elated I would be if I could wile away the hours conferring with the flowers...you know, consulting with the rain and all that. Eh, I'll show you later."

Harry bent down to help him up, and after a while, Lockhart could stand on his own.

"Thanks a lot, Harry!" he exclaimed, kicking his spindly legs with joy. "Now, let's go see the Wizard!" Lockhart held out the crook of his arm with a big grin.

Harry just stared. "What are you doing?"

Lockhart's grin vanished and he dropped his arm. "Oh, I... well, see... I was hoping we could link arms and skip away merrily into the horizon, but that's okay, I understand..." He cleared his throat and adjusted his patched robes, clearly embarrassed.

Harry shook his head. This is really getting spooky...

"Well, let's get going, I want to get to Hogwarts City as fast as possible," Harry said, "Which way should we go?"

Lockhart took a quick look down both paths. "Well, they both look promising, but I think we should take the right fork."

"Why the right fork? Is it safer?"

"Honestly, I don't know, I'm just a scarecrow. It just sounds good, you know? Right fork... it's the right fork... right?"

"Right," Harry groaned. It was going to be a looooong trip, he decided, and started walking down the right fork, with Lockhart gamboling to keep up.

"Say, how's about a singalong, eh? I know this great little tune that's a hit with the Hufflepuffs, whadyasay?"

"Somebody kill me now," Harry muttered, regretting ever taking Lockhart down from his post. He trudged on, with Hedwig high above him, and Lockhart singing at the top of his straw-filled lungs.

Harry was in some lower level of hell. He had been walking for hours on end, with no promise of Hogwarts City in sight. The sun was still high in the sky, and Lockhart was still behind him, belting out songs as fast as he could think of them.

"OOOOOOH, Weeeeeeee're off to see the Wizard..."

Harry kept walking faster and faster, hoping to lose Lockhart behind, but as fast as he walked, Lockhart managed to keep up, singing louder and louder.

"...if ever a Wiz there was... hey Harry? Any ideas for the next part?"

Harry groaned and stopped walking. He turned to see a smiling Lockhart, who had somehow along the way happened to pick the flowers from the edge of the Yellow Brick Road and weave them into an intricate crown. It was slipping off of his head, but he grinned placidly.

"You like? I love flower wreaths, but I'm partial to lilacs, I can't seem to find any this time of year..."

"Would you please, for the love of God, stop talking for once? I can't hear myself think!" Harry snapped. The smile slipped only a notch from Lockhart's face. A pause went by.

"...I made one for you, too," he said, and pulled a festive head wreath from behind him and plopped it down on Harry's head. He grinned, and before Harry had a chance to explode, he shouted, "APPLES!!! I LOVE APPLES!!!"

Lockhart frolicked away, and Harry turned around to see a grove of apple trees just ahead. Harry frowned, tossing his wreath away.

"Where did those come from? They weren't there a minute ago..." he said to himself, wondering if Lockhart had truly made him lose his mind.

Lockhart jumped up into the branches of the nearest tree, and grabbed two apples. He took enormous bites, grinning like a madman. "Oh, I love apples," he said after a large and noisy swallow, "they're so nutritious... have some, Harry!"

It was then that Harry remembered that he had had nothing to eat all day. His stomach churned painfully at the sight of the apples in Lockhart's hand. He shrugged to himself, and walked over to a tree. He stood on tip-toe and pulled a bright red apple from the branch. Just as he was about to take a bite, a branch came swooping down and smacked him smartly on the hand.

"Ouch!" He exclaimed, dropping the apple in surprise.

"That's exactly what you get for taking what doesn't belong to you!" A stern, yet familiar voice shouted at him, and to his horror, Harry realized the tree was talking to him. A grim face peered out from the bark of the tree, and Harry took a few steps back in shock.

"P-Professor McGonagall?" he stammered in disbelief.

"How dare you be so inconsiderate, you little troublemaker! And you," she hissed at Lockhart, who had stopped eating and stared at the tree with an open mouth, "Your manners are just as bad! I should have you stuffed and mounted!"

"Bud dai am stuffed," Lockhart said through a mouth of apples, pointing at his chest.

"SILENCE!" the McGonagall-Tree commanded. "I will not be spoken to like that! Get out of this grove, get out get out getoutgetoutgetOUT!"

The McGonagall-Tree began hurling apples at the two, and they ran back onto the path and down a ways before stopping to catch their breath.

"I bet (huff huff) those were (huff huff) bad apples (huff) anyway," Harry said to Lockhart.

"No, actually, they were really good, Harry. Too bad you didn't get any," Lockhart replied.

Harry scowled at him, and started walking down the Yellow Brick Road. After a while, Harry thought he had lost Lockhart at last. But his shrill voice sounded from right behind him:

"Oh, bullocks! That tree ruined my flower wreath!"